


Scientific Method

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Zarkon, Daibazaal - Freeform, F/M, For Science!, Galra Empire, Getting to Know Each Other, Original paladins - Freeform, POV Zarkon, Paladins, Research, Romance, Science, Science Experiments, Science Fiction, space spouses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 08:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: Zarkon wants to know more about the chief researcher on the Rift project, but he has protocol to consider. When she asks for his direct involvement, he is only too glad to offer her whatever assistance the Galra Empire can provide—but is that the best way to get to know someone?This was originally written forCome Back For Me: A Zarkon/Haggar Zine.Threshold Effect, from the same zine, is this story's (much more grim) companion piece.





	Scientific Method

The Rift was so near Zarkon's western palace that he could see the research facility from where he stood, on one of the broad viewing decks jutting from the palace exterior. The extensive laboratory surrounding and containing the Rift had been constructed rapidly and effectively: an ideal example of the blending of Galran and Altean architecture and engineering. Their two peoples worked so well together, a truth that Zarkon had realized when he'd formed his alliance with Alfor, so many years ago.

He couldn't see the Rift itself from where he stood, but he could bring to mind its entrancing, golden glow. He pictured it often. The image returned to him in idle moments, even intruding into his thoughts in the midst of his meditation or training sessions. 

A low tone sounded, indicating that his attention was sought within. As emperor, he could ignore such a summons, but he trusted his staff to seek him only in matters worthy of his attention. The observation deck was part of his private quarters, and he passed through his rooms to reach the door, where an attendant was waiting. She bowed low, a fitting sign of respect for her emperor. "Your Imperial Highness, Chief Researcher Honerva seeks an audience with you."

The researcher. He had seen her a handful of times since Alfor had introduced them. It was unorthodox for someone of her station to ask to see the emperor directly, but he had directly promised her any assistance she might require, so it wasn't as if she was showing him disrespect by asking for an audience. He also kept in mind that Altean customs differed considerably from Galra decorum. He had often remarked upon that fact to Alfor. "Show her to my audience chamber."

As the servant hurried to do as she was bidden, Zarkon experienced an unusual feeling: uncertainty. He hesitated. Protocol dictated he make his way immediately to what was now an approved appointment, but instead, he paused to consider his armor. It was a suit he would usually wear within his own residences, but he deliberated over whether he should exchange it for more formal wear. An audience was not a casual matter, not that his armor design would have any great significance to an Altean alchemist. A change of armor would also mean summoning a servant, then waiting for the current suit to be removed and the new one fastened on. No, that would create too much of a delay. He would go at once. He was already presentable to anyone, no matter their station or planet of origin.

The researcher was waiting for him when he arrived. Once his attendants had announced his arrival, he dismissed them. Yes, it was better that he was wearing his less formal suit of armor. Alteans had very different standards of formality, and he should take those into account. He'd made the right decision. He was congratulating himself inwardly as Honerva executed a polite bow. "Thank you for taking the time to see me, Emperor Zarkon. I'm sure you must have many demands on your time."

There were no chairs in the audience chamber, so they stood facing each other across the dark, bare floor. "I did offer my support," said Zarkon. "Whatever you require, I will provide it."

"It's a kind offer, but what I'm about to request is—unusual."

"Then you have my permission to make the request, and I will consider it fairly."

She brightened, and Zarkon did the same. He didn't smile, but his jaw relaxed. "Thank you so much," she said. "It would be indispensable to our research if we could study people living near the Rift, to monitor the effects of the energy on organic lifeforms. As you and your household are so close to the point of impact—you'd make ideal subjects."

She was right. It was an unusual request. Previous emperors would not have entertained the idea of allowing scientists to test the members of the imperial household, no matter the reason for the research. "You wish to study us?"

"Nothing too invasive, I assure you. I'll run a few tests, monitor your vitals. And if I could have access to previous medical records by way of comparison—"

"Of course!" Zarkon blurted.

Honerva blinked. "Of course?"

"Of course," Zarkon repeated, in a more controlled tone. He hadn't meant to agree so rapidly, but it was done. It might have been unheard of for an emperor or his household to be subjected to a study such as this, but he had already agreed to it. The Galra Emperor did not go back on his word. "I did say I would provide what you needed. It's in the name of science and progress, is it not?" Maybe he was unlike his predecessors. Tradition was important, but so was progress.

Honerva beamed. "You're very gracious. This will be most helpful to our work. I'll inform my team."  
Having said this, she waited, still smiling. Zarkon waited as well. Moments passed. Finally, Honerva asked, "May I be dismissed? I understand that that's the custom."

"It is." It was, but he had forgotten about it, somehow. "Yes. If there's nothing further, you're dismissed, Chief Researcher."

"Call me Honerva," she said as she departed. "A title isn't necessary."

Zarkon was left to consider his decision alone, as it began to sink in. He had been rash. What was his household going to think about being plunged into an endeavor so far outside standard procedure? He was still within his rights to call it off. He could explain that his staff had been unwilling to agree to the examinations. Yet that was unlikely to be believed, since such loyal subjects would do what their emperor had ordered, and he would not misrepresent their actions. He could also say that he had changed his mind, but indecision was not honorable. The choice had been made, but was it a wise one?

"It is—" Alfor's laughter temporarily impaired his ability to speak. Zarkon frowned at the screen as he watched Alfor wipe a tear from his eye. "—excellent. Good for you."

Zarkon was starting to regret this particular long-range communication. He had wanted Alfor's input, but Alfor's input could be accompanied by Alfor's teasing and Alfor's frivolity. "I don't see what's funny about it, Alfor."

"I've never known you to be so quick to volunteer yourself, let alone your servants and staff—and soldiers?"

"It is for science, isn't it? I want to do my part for the investigation."

"You weren't so eager the last time I wanted use you in one of my experiments."

"You were experimenting on the effects of Ridvonian slime."

"So?"

"That would have turned my scales orange, and you know it."

"Yes, but it would have been a lovely shade of orange."

Zarkon still wasn't sure if the color change would have been permanent, if he had allowed Alfor to do as he wished. Imagine being orange forever. It was fine for some species, but not Galra. "Never mind that. I want to know if there are any Altean customs I should keep in mind during the examinations."

"What kind of customs?"

"I don't know—you're the Altean. Scientific customs. Or any customs. I don't want to offend her."

"She's an alchemist, Zarkon. She's seen many things, even a few that are more bewildering than you."

Zarkon decided to ignore that last remark, along with the smirk on Alfor's face. "I want her to feel comfortable. What if I should alienate her somehow?"

"Wait, do you mean scientifically, or personally?" Alfor shook his head. "Either way, behave in your usual, disciplined manner, and you'll be fine. Honerva isn't someone who's overly concerned about social niceties. She'll understand."

He hoped Alfor was right, but for all that he and Alfor had their disagreements, he usually trusted his friend's advice. He trusted him in this, too. The study would be successful. As Zarkon had been the one to agree to the examination, he decided that he should be the first to take part in the testing. An emperor should always lead the charge. He made the arrangements and presented himself to Honerva in the examination room at the appointed time.

Honerva rose to her feet as he entered, offering him a quick bow while he dismissed his attendants. "I admit," she said, "I didn't think the emperor himself would agree to be part of this—I was expecting mostly lower ranking participants."

"Nonetheless, I am here," said Zarkon stiffly, too aware that he was stating the obvious.

"So I see. And you're wearing your armor."

"Is that not appropriate?"

"I'd say it's appropriate for you, in general, but it might make the examination a little difficult."

He could see what she meant. Armor, by its very nature, limited access to the body. "Did you want me to remove it?" Zarkon asked.

"It's—that's not necessary, if you'd prefer not to," said Honerva. "As I said, I didn't expect your participation at all."

"No, I'll remove it." Having stated this, Zarkon fell into a perplexed silence. While there were some pieces he could take off by himself, removing armor in its entirety did involve the assistance of at least one attendant. He could call one in again, but he'd only just dismissed them.

Honerva must have sensed the reason for his delay, because she quickly offered, "I can see about unlatching it for you."

"Oh. Yes. That would be acceptable," said Zarkon. It wasn't common practice for an Altean scientist to perform such a domestic task, but he decided to accept her offer.

"Unlatching—is that the term you usually use? As you can see, I don't wear armor myself."

"Unlatching is the correct word," said Zarkon, although he had never referred to the process in that way, or heard it described as such. It was fitting enough. "If you're willing to make the attempt—there are a number of fastenings."

"I believe I can manage it. With a little tutorial."

She was correct in her estimation. Zarkon only had to give her a few instructions, and she successfully removed the armor, piece by piece. He leaned down, to make the task a little easier. While he wasn't supposed to bow in the presence of others, he could make an exception, for necessity's sake. Her hands were sure and nimble, as he expected of an alchemist. At the same time, she was careful and methodical, setting each piece of armor down gently once she'd removed it. Zarkon approved. Armor was durable by nature, but that was no reason to treat it with disrespect.

Once Zarkon was divested of his armor, he felt unusually light and unprotected. Not that the natural armor of his scales wasn't enough to defend him, but to appear this way before someone not of his household, and not even of his people, was so unfamiliar to him that he fell silent and didn't speak until Honerva addressed him again.

"I learned to do something new today," Honerva announced. "I wasn't expecting that."

"You did well, for someone inexperienced with Galra armor."

"High praise, from the emperor himself. But I'm surprised you didn't want your servants with you. They would have been able to do a much better job."

Zarkon couldn't understand why he was so unusually tense. He didn't experience stress at the prospect of combat, let alone the prospect of an examination, but he currently could think of little but his own discomfiture, his now-informal attire, and his failure at every turn to observe protocol. He was wearing little more than the padded suit that prevented undue friction between his armor and his skin and scales.

Honerva smiled up at him. Zarkon, unsure if he should smile in return in the course of an examination, kept his featured studiedly grave. "The padding," said Honerva.

"Yes?"

"It may interfere with my scans."

"Yes. I can see that."

"But if you'd rather not remove it—"

"I will do whatever is necessary to facilitate your investigation," said Zarkon, falling back on the terms of his pledge to her. That was his own promise, and he could rely on it. He removed the padding. He was able to do that without assistance, stripping down to his waist. No emperor before him would have been so informal in the presence of someone who was neither royalty nor Galran, but Zarkon was not like the previous emperors. His reign was unique and would continue to be so. He had done much for the peace and prosperity of his people, and he didn't need an attendant to wait on him at every moment.

"Excellent," said Honerva. "You're an ideal patient."

The praise pleased him. Following that, he had trouble deciding upon a point on which to focus his gaze, finally selecting a portion of the wall just above Honerva's head. The color of her hair was of interest: it appeared blue in some lights and purple in others. Its current shade was located somewhere between the two colors.

"Would that be acceptable?" asked Honerva.

Zarkon realized that she had continued to speak, and he had failed to register the import of her words. "To what are you referring?" he asked.

"Tissue samples. And blood samples. I'd also like to take scrapings from your scales. The more thorough the tests, the more helpful the results will be."

"I'll always support science and progress," Zarkon declared.

"I'm glad to hear that. I feel the same." She consistently failed to use his titles, but he didn't mind. It was novel and charming, coming from an Altean. He wouldn't have tolerated it from one of his own subjects, but Honerva wasn't directly under his command.

"Alfor did say you'd be easy to work with," she said.

"Did he? Yes, he would have. We've always worked well together."

"Altea and the Galra Empire have never been closer," said Honerva. "Our partnership can only be to the benefit of both our peoples."

"I'd like us to have a closer relationship," Zarkon said, but once he realized the full import of his words, he frowned at his own informality, discussing matters of state at such a time.

If she noticed anything amiss, she didn't show it, continuing to work as she spoke to him pleasantly. "That sounds promising. What do you propose?" 

He had no idea what he was proposing, but he attempted to elaborate. "Diplomatic—ties. Increased trade. Scientific collaboration. Things of that nature. The details have yet to be finalized."

"I'll look forward to it, then." Honerva had been readying her equipment, and her preparations were done. "All right, there's no need for you to do anything else now. Just hold still for me."

Though not used to obeying others' orders, Zarkon stilled immediately. Her small, sharp instrument scraped against his scales. The scraping feeling wasn't unpleasant, not unlike being scrubbed when he was washed. "I won't have time to do all these examinations personally," said Honerva as she worked, "but nothing less than the Chief Researcher will do for the emperor."

"As it should be," said Zarkon.

He held out his arm so she could take his blood, thoughtfully watching the vial fill with dark liquid. Blood and injury didn't distress him, but he was unsettled by something. He was very aware of the sound of his breath, and he could hear his heart beating. When Honerva activated her scanner, the glow of its blue light washed over him. He shortly noticed a faint frown passing over her lips.

"What are the results?"

"No unusual readings. Your pulse and respiration are elevated from the baseline."

"May I see?"

"The scan is complete, so there's no reason why you can't."

He stood behind her, studying the luminous screen. In this small way, he was included in the study now. He observed the data with interest, although he wasn't sure of the meaning of every reading. "Is there anything else unusual?" He didn't want to put too much focus on his elevated pulse. It was best if she didn't think too much about it.

"Not at first glance, but I'll do more extensive tests on the samples. The primary purpose of conducting these tests now is so we can track any effects of the rift over the coming deca-phoebs."

"Deca-phoebs?" Zarkon asked, but it was going to take that long, wasn't it? Research wasn't a hasty affair.

"We don't yet have an estimate of the project's length, or I would have sent one to you. I'll keep you updated, but we won't be able to guess at the duration of our work until we know more about what we're dealing with."

"It's an honor to host such an esteemed team of researchers." Zarkon's enthusiasm surged as he said this. "For however long you need to remain here." She might well be here for a very long time. He was sure he would learn a great deal from her and her research.

With the examination concluded, Zarkon told himself that he would hold himself back and limit his involvement in the project, despite his curiosity. He didn't want to interfere with the researchers' work. They needed their independence. He would respond to them only when called upon. He did have numerous demands upon his time. Affairs of state often kept him away from his palaces and even his planet. Yet no matter how much he had to occupy him, thoughts of the Rift continued to surface in his mind at the oddest moments. More frequently, he also found himself thinking of the chief researcher, and the way she had so calmly and competently dealt with him. Such talent and professionalism couldn't fail to impress him.

Whenever he returned to the palace by the Rift, he considered contacting Honerva to ask her about her progress, but reminded himself of his determination to give the researchers their independence. Yet he had made no resolutions involving Alfor, and eventually, he decided to broach the subject to him, following one of their joint missions. 

He waited until they were seated across a table from each other, and the others were out of earshot. "Have you talked to the researchers lately?" Zarkon asked, hoping he didn't sound overly concerned. "The ones at the Rift."

"I have, in fact! I've been in regular contact with them." Alfor sounded amenable enough, but his eyebrows were less forgiving, adopting a quizzical angle. "Although you're a little closer to them than I am."

"Yes, so I am. But—so you've spoken to Honerva?"

"Honerva? Of course. We're in regular contact with each other. Why do you ask?"

"Has she—said anything about me?"

"About you? Oh, she's said a lot of things about her work, let me see..." Alfor paused to reflect, leaning back in his chair. He took his time about it, and Zarkon waited, trying to appear patient and unconcerned. "She did mention being concerned that she might have offended you. But I assured her that couldn't be the case, even if you are a stickler for the rules."

Zarkon charitably ignored the comment about him being a stickler, as Alfor's other words concerned him more. "Offended me? What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure. She said she performed the tests you'd discussed, and then you cut off contact with her."

"Did I?"

"I'm not sure, Zarkon. Did you?" Alfor had tilted his head to one side and was giving Zarkon a meaningful look, which Zarkon didn't like.

Zarkon abruptly changed the subject to an analysis of their recent battle, and Alfor didn't object, moving easily to the new topic. Yet although the subject had been changed, Alfor's words stayed with him. In trying not to give offense, he may have done just that. As soon as he returned to Daibazaal, Zarkon summoned an aide and asked her to set up a meeting with the Chief Researcher.

"It's an honor, Emperor Zarkon," said Honerva, collected and calm as she met him once again in the dark and chairless audience chamber. The light made the purple of her hair more vibrant.

"Have you received the test results yet?" Unsure of what else to say, he was direct, cutting to the heart of the matter.

"I have," she replied. "I thought you'd want to see them, so I brought the data with me." Without further preface, she pulled out a slim reading device and presented him with the glowing blue text. "The information is confidential and hasn't been shared with anyone else, but I wanted to offer you full disclosure."

He gazed intently down at the screen, pleased that she had anticipated his wishes. He didn't understand all the Altean scientific notations, but he dutifully studied what he'd been shown, before saying, "It is appreciated, but there are one or two things I don't understand."

"I would be happy to explain anything to you," said Honerva, promptly.

With one claw, he indicated one of the unfamiliar symbols. "What does this signify?

"A perceptive question. I discovered a certain substance—" she began, highlighting a data set on the screen as she leaned in closer to him. "—which wasn't present in any older records, as far as I can determine." Zarkon examined the graphics that represented its chemical composition. "It appeared among many of our subjects, particularly those who were present at the time of impact, and I'm unable to classify it. That's why I believe it's related to the Rift."

"It's—inside us?" He didn't like the way that sounded.

"Yes, but in trace amounts. It took extensive testing to uncover it. For this study, I've used methods that have never been used before."

"You said it showed up in all of us?"

"Most. But I don't want you to be too concerned. I have more tests to run, and we have no reason to believe its effects are harmful. Faced with new and extraordinary materials, it's natural that there will be new and extraordinary results."

Her way of explaining the situation was so plain and practical that it put him at ease. Being in her presence made him feel calmer. She had the directness of a Galra, paired with the easy manner of an Altean. "My thanks, Chief Researcher."

"Again, you can call me Honerva."

He considered only a moment before dispensing with this formality. "Honerva, then. Do you need to take more samples?"

She smiled at him, suddenly. "Would you like me to?"

"I thought it might be helpful," he said quickly. "To compare to your baseline."

"I was going to wait a little longer for that, but I see no reason to delay, if the emperor himself is ready."

"Then—let us commence."

"At once?" Honerva's usual calm was disturbed enough that she delayed before asking for clarification. "You mean you want me to examine you now?"

Once again, Zarkon hadn't thought his actions through beforehand, but again, he felt bound by his words. "We could do so. At your convenience."

"Very well, but I'm not set up for an examination at the moment. Why don't I return to my lab to prepare? I'll contact your administrators when I'm ready."

"That would be acceptable." So Zarkon said, but as soon as Honerva was gone, he returned to his quarters and started to pace. Why had he said what he had? What could explain the erratic nature of his behavior? Why was he pacing? He never paced. It was wasted movement. Most importantly—when was Honerva going to contact him? The uncertainty made him restless. He walked to the observation deck and remained there for several minutes, staring at the Rift research facility. He couldn't even stay still there, and went inside again.

Fortunately, the communication screen on the wall soon came alive. One of his administrators appeared, eyes respectfully downcast. "Your Imperial Majesty," he said.

"Yes, what is it?"

"The Chief Researcher—"

"Tell her I'll see her when she's ready," Zarkon interrupted, not in the mood for one of the formal exchanges he so often sat through. "Inform me of the time that's convenient to her."

"Yes, sire," said the administrator. He disappeared when the screen went dark, but shortly reappeared. He had taken his emperor's haste seriously. "She can see you now, if you would like. In the same examination room, she said. Her staff will show you in."

He'd intended to show Honerva respect and reassure her that she hadn't offended him, but he'd ended up in this situation, instead. For the second time, he stood before her in the examination room, taking in the sight of her bathed in the light emanating from the screens of her research equipment. She gazed up at him beseechingly. Staring at her purple-blue hair, gilded by the light, Zarkon came to a sudden, striking revelation—

He'd forgotten again to have his armor removed beforehand. "Ah, my armor," he said quickly. "I've made this inconvenient for you once more."

"No, it's all right," Honerva said quickly. "Allow me. I remember how." Her hands were clever and remembered what they'd been taught. She removed his armor both more quickly and more carefully than the last time. He should have expected no less from a great Altean alchemist. Remembering the procedure from last time, and taking refuge in carrying out a known series of actions, Zarkon removed the padding from his upper body.

"You're not what I expected the Galra Emperor would be like," said Honerva. "Well, maybe a little, but not entirely."

"Do I exceed expectations?" he asked.

"I'd say so," she said, smiling. Scraper in hand, she moved behind him to take samples from his scales, and then stilled. Zarkon listened for the sounds of more movement, but she seemed to have stopped short in the middle of her work. "Is anything the matter?"

"There's some loose skin here."

"Loose—?" He immediately realized what that must mean. That was a possibility he hadn't considered. "I must be molting. Please pay it no mind." Molting was a natural process, but not one that was shared with outsiders. He'd thought his skin felt dry. He hadn't thought it was going to start falling off already. A common cause for that was stress, but the emperor did not allow stress to affect him. "Could you take it for a sample?"

"No, the newer skin will make a better sample, but I'll remove it for you."

"You don't have to—" He began to protest, but he could feel the strips of dead skin already being gently peeled away, just as his armor had been removed. In spite of his agitation, he also experienced what was becoming a familiar sense of calm, created by her competence and care.

When she was done her tests, she replaced his armor. He was more at ease, although he was also aware that their time together was about to come to an end again. He would maintain his distance and their independence, but he would maintain some contact with the facility. He could speak to her regarding the results of this test in the future, or they could discuss the tests overall in depth. That would be interesting. He was already looking forward to it.

"I'd like to ask you a question, Emperor Zarkon," said Honerva, stepping away from him.

He enjoyed having a specific question to which he could give a specific answer. "As I said, whatever you require will be yours."

"It's not necessarily related to my research." She was standing before him now, looking up into his eyes. It was refreshing, to be regarded so directly.

"That is also acceptable." It felt good to grant her requests. That explained why he kept doing it.

"Good. Then, I was wondering, would you like to join me for dinner this evening? You can dine here at the research center. Our food isn't imperial quality, but it's more than palatable. I think you already have some experience with Altean cuisine."

Zarkon took a moment to assure himself that she'd said what he thought she said. Once he was certain, he grasped for a response. He fell back on propriety. "This isn't the proper method for seeking an audience with the emperor."

She nodded. "I recognize that. But it is the proper method for getting to know someone better."

Maybe on Altea that was true, but this was Daibazaal. Rank and precedent had to be considered. "Galra protocol doesn't indicate that this is the case."

"No, but I'm following scientific protocol. Observation and research have led me to hypothesize that this is the correct course of action." She sounded so sure of herself, which made her even more convincing.

Research? Had Alfor said anything to her about him? Surely he wouldn't have done that. No, he might have, but he also couldn't underestimate an alchemist's powers of observation. "I should follow proper procedure," Zarkon insisted, but most of the assurance had faded from his protest. He considered the prospect of sitting down at a table with her and discussing matters other than her research. He was already wondering what they'd talk about, unable to stifle a shudder of anticipation.

"You should. But doesn't Galra procedure indicate that the emperor can override procedure?"

She had done her research. "It does."

"Then I don't see how you can be in violation of procedure."

She had arrived at a logical conclusion. Zarkon found himself unable to argue with her any longer. "Then I will accept your invitation, as that is my imperial interpretation of the current protocol governing our relations." As he said this, and witnessed her answering smile, relief washed over him. Uncertainty receded. Science was a powerful force.


End file.
